Hands Remember
by DaisyofGalaxy
Summary: The Doctor's life is turned upside down when a breakdown of the Tardis forces him to make an emergency landing on 21st century Earth. Hopeless and stranded indefinitely, the Time Lord must rely on kindness of his friends and recall a thing he hasn't been giving a hang for centuries- how to earn his keep. Finding his way through isn't however as bad as it seems.
1. Prologue

A/N: A tiny idea of mine I came up with when 11th was still around. Basically what would happen if the Doctor and Clara were forced to go domestic for a while. Well not entirely for a while since the Doctor in my story isn't sure he can repair the Tardis at all.

I would like to thank DarkBalance for her suggestions and helping me to make this story work.

Chapter 1

It was a rainy summer evening. Blue skies were already tightly hidden behind a heavy layer of black clouds, leaving the city blind. The infinite darkness of night was only, from time to time, pierced by a white light of the thunderstorm. The bedraggled world smelled like dirt, water, and something else that there wasn't quite a word for.

Clara opened the doors to her flat and went inside. This time, she wasn't on her own as she usually was. There was someone else with her. The tall and thin shadow she brought home was drooping, as if there was a huge ballast on his arms he had to carry with him. The man's scared eyes looked at her from under his wet hair. Some strands at the front stuck miserably to his forehead which was unnaturally pale from the cold. He stood aimlessly in the middle of the kitchen while she couldn't stand still and kept moving nervously from one spot to another.

Finally, she came closer to the dark blue kettle resting on the cooker and took it in her hands. She approached the sink and turned on the tap. A familiar sound filled up the room as fresh water streamed down through the rusted pipes straight into the item she held in her tiny hands.

"I'll make us some tea. Tea makes everything better." The woman whispered under her breath. Her trembling voice made it obvious that something bothered her.

Once the beverage was ready, Clara grabbed the cups and left the room.

She turned on the light and entered the living room, cluttered with tons of her personal belongings. The woman put the mugs carefully on the coffee table, afraid to split any of colourful content on the paper sheets covering most of the space. She opened the balcony windows to get rid of the fug and the room was immediately filled with the scent of the storm outside.

Not having enough time for a proper cleaning, Clara removed her still awaiting-to-be- ironed clothes from the sofa and prepared a seat for them. When the couch was neat and tidy, she came back to the kitchen to invite her guest in further.

The Doctor was still standing in the middle of the room and hadn't moved even a step. He was leaning on one of the blue cupboards with his expressionless eyes set on her dishwasher. She reached to him and grabbed him by his sweaty hand.

"Come on." Clara said gently, as if he was a terrified child who needed to be comforted and led him by his hand to the other room.

"Sit down." She showed him the sofa when they were already in the living room. "I know it seems to be the end of the world, but we'll figure something out. You'll see."

He didn't say anything but nodded in understanding. His shaky body rested reluctantly on the cotton couch.

"What happened exactly?" Clara questioned him. The Doctor called earlier this evening and asked her to pick him up from the middle of nowhere, soaking wet from the heavy rain. She hadn't witnessed today's events, and still wasn't sure how it was possible that the Tardis became useless.

He swallowed nervously and gasped as if there was something suffocating him. "The engine gave up."

Clara shook her head subtly and laid her hand on his thigh, hopeful that it would soothe him a little.

"This is what we're going to do." She whispered while her eyes were fixed on his. "You'll stay here;- my flat should be enough for two people. Tomorrow morning, one of us will call UNIT and ask for their help in moving the Tardis, so you won't have to travel 20 miles every day just to repair it."

"I don't think I can do anything about the damage." The Doctor complained.

"You'll make it work again, I'm sure of that." She said with a confidence in her voice and enclosed his cold hand in hers. "Don't worry about anything else. It's my job from now on."

"Thank you." His voice shook.

"No problem. It goes both ways." She reassured him while she rose from the sofa. "I would love to keep you company but it's getting late and I'm working tomorrow. If you don't mind, I'll prepare your bed and go to bed after that."

"Absolutely." The Doctor answered without a hesitation. He got up from where he was sitting as well and watched her leave the room. After a moment, she came back with a fluffy white duvet and a pillow in her hands.

"Fortunately, my family visits from time to time, so I'm fully equipped." She told him while she put the items on the floor by the window. "And the sofa is a bed-settee. Can you prepare the bed and I'll bring some fresh linen?" Clara asked him and disappeared again. This time for a little bit longer.

The Doctor put the cushions and throw lying on the couch aside and lifted the seating a little. The furnishing made a funny metallic noise and from an uncomfortable sofa rose a likely even more uncomfortable bed.

"Here, I have something for you." Clara told him as she entered the room. In her thin arms she had a checked flannel cloth that resembled a pair pyjamas. "I bought it for my dad last year, but he never used it. It might be a little too short, though."

"What's that?" The Doctor lifted his head and raised his eyebrow on her as if she said something very weird.

"It's pyjamas. You'll catch a cold in your clothes, they're still wet."

He moved away a little and crossed his arms over his chest. "Thank you, I'll be fine."

"It's unhygienic, not to mention uncomfortable. It's only for a few hours. I'll do the laundry tomorrow before work and you'll have your stuff fresh as new before you even notice, you have my word." Clara assured him.

"Okay." He whined quietly.

"It's set then." She gave him a genuine smile and left the room once more.

"I'll prepare you a hot bath now. It's been a long day for you and nothing is better than a hot bath, believe me." He heard her voice coming from the bathroom. The Doctor followed her and entered the tiny space of the room.

Her ceramic bath tub was filling up with water and camomile-scented foam at an astonishing pace. Once the tub was half full, she turn off the tap and headed to the door. "Have a nice bath." She said kindly as she closed the doors behind her.

The Doctor turned the tiny lock in the door knob and started to remove his clothing, layer by layer. He was just in his underwear when he heard a tiny noise behind the closed doors.

"Sorry to interrupt-"Clara said with embarrassment in her voice. "-you can leave your dirty clothes on the shelf by the sink, or _whatever_. Just make sure they're somewhere where I won't have trouble finding them tomorrow."

"Thank you." The Doctor said loudly so she could hear him and sunk carefully in hot bath.

The water was surprisingly nice he had to admit. He gathered some of it in his hands and wet his hair with the intent to wash it. Frankly, the bath was the only good thing that had happened to him during entire day. He still couldn't believe that the damage of the ship was severe enough to make him stuck on Earth for eternity, but it turned out to be. And to make things even worse from now on- he had to rely on help and kindness of others. Centuries of travelling without need of working made him lazy, and he couldn't tell if he was still able to earn his keep. After all, 21st century Earth wasn't the easiest place to live. His companions seemed to manage it just fine, but they had roots here. They were born and grew up here, among all the rules this world followed.

The Time Lord contemplated for a long moment. Once the water started to cool down, he lifted himself up and took one of the towels hanging from the radiator. His body, taken from the hot bath, started to shake a little from the cold while we was drying his limbs and torso with the terry cloth.

The Gallifreyan put on the checked pyjamas that Clara gave him, which unsurprisingly reached neither his wrists nor his ankles, but he didn't mind at all. He had to admit that the feeling of being entirely clean from head to toes wasn't the worst. Now that he had finally washed himself from the trouble and toil today brought had on him, he wouldn't bear stepping into his soiled clothes all over again.

The Doctor left the bathroom and entered the living room, now illuminated solely by a tiny lamp standing on the coffee table, next to a glass of milk and a sandwich Clara left for him. The bed was also already made, and looked definitely better than what he would create without her aid. He laid himself on it leisurely and closed his weary eyes in hope that tomorrow was going to be kinder for him. He really hoped it would…


	2. Burn This Town

And I tell myself it's not following me  
Break me out of here, cause it's blinding me  
Lie to me baby, don't you lie to me  
Nothing's gonna change  
If you wait to save me

Battleme- 'Burn This Town'

A/N: I would like to sincerely apologize everyone who waited for this fic. There were troubles on the way that didn't allow me to update sooner. Nonetheless, I hope from now onward there's gonna be more consistency in my actions.  
Also, from now on, I plant to accept prompts for this fic. The story's going to have a proper plot I'm currently developing. However as you will notice in this chapter, most of the chapters will also contain casual, more or less domestic moments. I've created a list of potential fish-out-of-water situations I will for sure use, but if there's anything you'd particulalry like to see, feel free to PM me or just leave a comment.  
Thank you for your patience  
DaisyofGalaxy

June 23rd was the most tedious and boring day in the history of Earth, the Doctor adjudicated. He was forced to spend that afternoon in the waiting room of UNIT's counsellor office. Okay he had trouble sleeping, or rather couldn't fall asleep at all, waking each time with sweat on his temples. But coming here and whining over the recent events? It felt like the worst idea ever. Nevertheless, living next to a woman with control issues meant one must sometimes agree to strange and pointless things if he wants a little peace and quiet in his life.

He considered lying to her and spending this afternoon somewhere else, but Clara, likely aware of his plot, decided to keep him company that day. She was sitting next to him, peacefully reading a newspaper she brought with her while he looked daggers at her. Tiny snorts were leaving his mouth every now and then, but he never spoke a word, only glaring at her impassive features.

"John Smith?" The Time Lord heard his fake name being called when the doors to the office opened. He reluctantly rose from his seat and followed the woman who had a goofy smile on her face.

The office looked better than the waiting room, the Doctor noticed as soon as he entered it. The walls were painted pale blue and where here and there decorated with drawing and paintings of animals, mostly dogs and cats. In one of the walls a huge aquarium with exotic fish was built-in. The raucous animals were too busy with their quarrels to espy that in the room was someone who could understand them.

"Take a seat," the woman ordered him as she sat in the armchair behind a heavy wooden desk. "I'm Doctor Tucker, but you can call me Maia if you wish. I've been asked to help and assist you in your acclimatisation here."

Acclimatisation. Was that what he was doing now?

He couldn't tell yet or he didn't want to. Frankly speaking, staying on this planet was the last thing he wanted. A fear and sorrow he felt just few days ago left him and changed into the purest form of anger. Right now, he hated everything about this place. He loathed the climate and the fact that most of the planet was covered with trees. Who needs so many trees for Lord's sake? And society. There was nothing more appalling about this place than the people who made it. They built that place on their stupid materialism, and right now even he had to follow the addled rules. Did he really need to work and spend his remaining life being concerned about his future? Of course he didn't, but this silly place made him.

Next twenty minutes felt like an eternity to him. He was sitting on the cotton sofa in the corner of the room and kept a close eye on the exotic fish swimming aimlessly in the huge fish tank. Despite the long monologue about importance of talking about the problems the woman gave him, he didn't pay back with a single word. A much more interesting thing to do now was listen to the dirty jokes the fish were telling him.

"There were 10 cats in a boat and one jumped out. How many were left?" A yellow butterfly fish asked him telepathically. "None, because they were copycats!" It guffawed before the Doctor could say anything.

"Copycats! Do you get it mate? Oh, Copycats. Stan's jokes rock." Its pals were accompanying him and filled up the Doctor's mind with high-pitched laughter.

"Cats are the worst," the other, smaller fish speaking in a Caribbean accent told him. Its anterior was bright purple, while the posterior was vibrant yellow. "If you have a dog it brings you slippers when you're home, but cat… Cat will bring you a mouse. Wicked animals!"

The Time Lord was about to ask the fish where their aversion to cats came from when the psychologist spoke again.

"You don't have to say a word if you don't want to. But I want you to know you won't stop having these appointments as long as I don't say so." The woman was threatening him. The Doctor however didn't bother with her threats, determined not to succumb. "Clara won't be happy when she finds out." The woman was trying to cow him while her smiling eyes were driving him insane.

"Well, if she's so happy-go-lucky why doesn't she make herself an appointment?" The Doctor snarled.

"You're wrong here. She was my patient when her boyfriend died," the woman replied, still smiling at him. Despite his attempts to spoil the friendly atmosphere, she remained adamant in her heartfelt attitude towards him.

"I would love to know what she told you." The Doctor chuckled, "she's so funny in her control issues. It must have been a great fun."

The smile left the woman's face as she considered something quietly. "You know what? I have a proposition." She chirruped with a note of confidence in her voice, "would you agree to speak to me if I told you some of Clara's secrets?"

He shifted on the sofa and moved closer to the edge, as if it was supposed to slightly close the distance between him and the counsellor. "Can you do that?" He asked her with his mouth wide open.

The woman opened one of the drawers of her desk and retrieved from it a thin blue folder. "If you keep it to yourself I guess so."

The Doctor got up from the couch and approached the desk. An excitement was etched on his face when he spotted a letters forming into "Clara Oswald", written on the cover of the folder. His fingertips touched tenderly the thick layer of plastic separating him from the confidential data he had a chance to get access to.

"Deal!" He whispered while his lips formed into a mischievous smirk.

"I was on Laylora. Boring to death, except for a few landmarks. I was visiting the local market, trying to pass my time. And that's where they noticed me," The Doctor was explaining to the woman sitting in front of him, hopeful to get the promised information about Clara.

"Who was after you?" She asked him with a combination of concern and interest in her voice.

"To be honest I have no idea. It was an organised crime I've never heard about before. They assessed my ship while I wasn't nearby and followed me silently till I was too far to rely on help of local police. They used a device able to block electronics on the hunted ship. Their vehicles were also very fast, much faster than Sexy, so I had no chance to escape. I was trying to shake off the chase but I couldn't." He almost whispered, "I was running as fast as I could, but they were always ahead of me. I was trying for hours, fruitlessly. Then I noticed that in one place the level of entropy level is elevated. I didn't want to risk, but I knew I may not have another chance. "

"Do they still have buccaneers in the future?" The psychologist asked.

"Of course they do. It's a business like every other. Tardises are not the easiest ships when it comes to boarding, so robberies were always rare." He spoke. There was a lump in his throat he couldn't break up into bits despite constant swallowing. "Although, that crew seemed to know what they were doing," he finally coughed out.

"What happened next?" The woman kept asking.

The Time Lord cleared his throat and continued. "Of course they didn't follow me there. But the entropy turned out to be high enough to suck off the energy from the engines. I had enough for only one travel, so I chose to come here. Because of Clara. I don't know where I would go if I didn't have her."

"You two are very close, aren't you?"

He nodded and gave her a shy smile. "We've been through a lot lately."

"Yes, she mentioned it had been a tough time for the both of you," the woman said with a compassion in her voice. The fact she had an idea what was going on in their relationship recently perturbed him slightly. Their troubles were a sensitive matter and he wasn't glad some strange woman knew every detail and discussed them with Clara.

"What do you feel about staying here for a while?" The counsellor kept questioning him.

"I was forced to destroy my ship and I may never have it back. How can I possibly feel?" The Doctor whined.

"You'll fix it. I'm sure of that."

"Clara keeps saying that, but what if I don't? What if the damage is too severe to be ever repaired? The emergency landing compensated most of the electronics on board. I may never be able to repair or replace it," he explained. Honestly speaking, he was doing that more to become accustomed with that thought than to prove his point to others. He wasn't sure why but repeating those words over and over again seemed to make it all easier to bear.

"It may feel like the end of the world but it's not," the psychologist told him while her hand picked up the folder and reached in in the Doctor's direction. " There is someone who kept calling me ten times a day this week just to make sure the conversation between us goes in the most comfortable to you way. You're very important to her," she said with a sincere smile on her face.

A grin of embarrassment appeared on the man's face as he took the files in his hand. "If you say so," he almost sung. A thought that even strange people manage to notice Clara cares about him made his heart swell with pride.

"May I see the files already?" His unnaturally high voice asked.

The woman nodded and gestured with her hands in approval. "For now only one page. But next time if you as cooperative as today, you may get another one."

"Rip-off merchant!" The Doctor replied as his thin finger were busy with the folder. He opened it on page one and started to read slowly.

 _25_ _th_ _June 2015_

 _A woman aged-28 was advised to attend a therapy after her significant other was tragically killed a few weeks earlier. During the first session the woman denied conversations and did not maintain eye contact._

"And that's it?" The Doctor whined when he finished reading the short message.

"Oh, just go for now." The psychologist waved with her hand as if she tried to chase him off. "But it gets better later on, I promise."

"It had better," the Doctor whispered as he rose from his seat.

The noise of opening doors invigorated Clara's reading posture. His companion who seemed to enter the spirit of her reading, lifted up her head and gave him a warm smile. "Hello you. How was the appointment?" She greeted him when he took a seat next to her.

"Boring," he replied without hesitation.

"Great to hear that," she said winking at him. Seeing her well-wishing smile brought one on his own lips. They looked at each other silently for a while before Clara lifted herself up from the plastic chair and reached her hand in his direction. "I suggest the cinema and pizza each time we're coming here to keep things balanced. What do you think?" She invited him playfully.

"Totally agree. What's in the repertoire tonight?" He asked as he got himself up from his own chair ignoring her awaiting his hand.

"Any propositions?" Clara kept asking him whereas her hand folded itself around the Doctor's arm. This time he didn't pulled away, but patiently bore up the physical contact.

"I don't know. Something funny would be nice."


End file.
